Saviour
by Armaras
Summary: Nate is tired, having seen and done far more than anyone could ever imagine. However he never embraced the world and life he woke up to, until now.


Nate took a long, big puff on his cigar, and absent-mindedly swirled the whisky in his other hand, sitting in a chair on top of the hill overlooking Sanctuary, with Vault 111 behind him. The sun was on its way down, the world colored in a pleasant, warm shade of orange. Sanctuary was always busiest at dawn and before dusk, when people and caravans congregated to eat and drink in the market place that now occupied the former cul-de-sac, the old tree in the middle a sole reminder of what the place once was.

The houses that formed the neighborhood were rebuilt, or at least some that were in the condition for it, others were salvaged for material, with sturdy shacks occupying spaces between old suburban architecture. This was the bright future, Nate thought bitterly and gave a small chuckle. He never imagined seeing the aftermath, let alone 200 years into it. Where they were promised stars and technology, now he faced radiation and rust, with him as the living reminder of what the past once was.

"No. I'm not your saviour. I have my own problems to deal with."

That's what he told Preston back when he first stumbled out of the vault. That changed when it turned out that his problems were also the Commonwealth's too. There was little in a way of turning away from it all, but in his heart of hearts he never shook off the shock of it all. The wasteland, the war, the ruins, it was like a bad movie, a nightmare that he could not wake up from. How many times he opened his eyes, staring at the familiar ceiling in the bedroom of his house, expecting to see Nora on his side. The illusion always came and it always held for the briefest of moments, when he did see a wave of long dark hair nestled next to his head. Then she would turn to face him and the illusion would shatter, the bitter reality asserting itself anew. This was not Nora, she could never be her. Her soft features, a sprinkling of freckles on her nose and a warm smile were pretty enough on their own, but a far cry from what Nate knew. It wasn't fair on Piper, to constantly pit a living, breathing woman against his wife, who might as well be a figment of imagination, a ghost long-lost in time, if not for her presence everywhere he turned.

Nate would seclude himself in Shaun's bedroom from time to time, the empty crib another ghost of his life, and listen to the tape that Codsworth gave him. A voice from beyond the grave, Nora and Shaun declaring their love for him. He stopped doing it for a while, after he found Piper listening in on him once. She was already close to him, but this was something that he could never share with her, or with anyone. After that, he would go back to the vault alone and listen to the tape there, with Nora a frozen witness to it all. He played it one more time to Shaun after he found him in the Institute, but the encounter was a hollow one. A gulf of time unmanageable by anyone with only the sense of loss and regret to go by. Nonetheless, he stood by his son and executed the design for a new, better Commonwealth.

Nate flipped the switch on Pip-boy and the holotape came on, already in the slot.

"Hi Honey!..."

But even Shaun could not fathom the irony of the situation, the cosmic joke that was played on Nate, who like a Lazarus, rose from the Vault and was set up to resurrect the old world.

He did his best, of course. With the loyalty of the Minutemen and the resources of the Institute, it would not take long before Boston was cleared of rubble and raiders and resettled, with the rest of Massachusetts projected to be rebuilt in the following years. The synths would cease kidnapping people and Gen 3 would be withdrawn from production, despite objections of majority of scientists. They would eventually see the reason in the decision, but their pride was something that they were yet to bruise while facing the reality on the surface.

Piper too had a rough adjustment period, easing herself as much as she did the people by writing reconciliatory articles about what would happen next. Unwittingly, she was giving him free publicity, although he suspected that she tried to fix up the reality through her writing just as much. He didn't object, but even sent a synth team to Boston Bugle to clear the place and set the shop for her there.

The sun was halfway behind the horizon, and Nate felt the evening chill creep over him. He took a swig of the alcohol and put out the cigar. San Francisco Sunlight, he took them up not long after he took Kellog's box from his hideout, and kept it with him ever since. He killed the man in heat of the moment, but thinking back, he would do it again without batting an eye.  
Nate narrowly missed death more than few times when he was out scavenging and traveling, but never did he think of a moment more fitting to end it all, there and then by Kellog's had, had it happened. Was this journey worth it? The revelations and everything else after that moment?

Kellog's .44 was a dark, ominous shape as it lay on the crate next to Nate. Another strange item that he could not put down ever since he killed the bastard. The gun that took Nora from him now was in his service. By all accounts it was rather unremarkable revolver, on the heavy side with a long barrel and a good kick that made sure everything hit by it once stayed dead. But it was much more to Nate, it was a path to a way out.

After Shaun was gone, it was a tempting proposition, just waiting for him to take him back to Nora and the baby he knew as his child. He thought about it not once, but the life and duties that accumulated on him and around him brought out the side of him that Nate thought was left behind in 2077.

"You are loving, and caring..."

There was hardly anything in it for him. Whatever embers of emotion he had left, he gave to Piper. She was positively aglow with feelings, and radiated them everywhere she went. It was nice enough, and her presence did a little to soothe the pains of present, but could never fill the void.

He tried to move on and took a liking to the spunky troublemaker, who despite living in post-apocalyptic wasteland still cared enough to make it a personal mission, long after Nate's expired. She suffered loss in her life too, but it set her on a path that brought more out of her than anything else possibly could. Maybe it was that mirror opposite of him that attracted him. Or maybe it was the dark, wavy hair and the slender figure that were so familiar to him already.

It was awkward and clumsy at start, and she seemingly ignored the advances, which despite honesty, were half-hearted. She eventually brought up her own inadequacies, which only made her more joyful and eager once he pushed past those. It took him long enough to consider it, but he gave her the ring too. It was just the two of them, and out of sight, but it took more effort than any public appearance or discussion he ever held in this new life.

But this was different, and he could never think of it as a substitute or a replacement, it only brought out bitterness when he did it and avoided Piper to no good reason, a quivering wreck with a holotape stuck on repeat, each emotional bender longer than the last. He did care for her, but this time he could not bear her sight and hid in the wastes under a pretense of a mission for more than half a year. She probably knew where he was or what he did, but she learned to leave him alone when it happened.

"Bye honey, we love you..."

The Pipboy went quiet. This was perfect, Nate thought. The silence, the darkness, there would be no interruptions here. The .44 was a familiar weight in his hand, but the sweaty palm and slight trembling of his fingers betrayed. Still, the resolve was there.

The gun's barrel was now caressed by his other hand, ever so slowly guided under his chin. There were few ways to go about it, but this was most comfortable, if hardest to get right. If he aimed at wrong angle, the bullet would only go through the jaw and wreck his face. Throat and neck would be painful and only make a mess of it. An angle for the base of the skull, through the throat was the sure way to go.

The barrel was now firmly held under his jaw, just above Adam's apple, the thumb ready to pull the hammer to ready the gun.

"Sir?"

The synthesized yet accented voice surprised Nate. The hum of the jet and the nuclear engine inside Codsworth were audible too as he closed in. The robot had no problem with locating him, which in the wasteland was a blessing.

"I have news of Mrs... that is Piper."

Nate lowered the pistol and looked at the robot, which by now was only a black outline on a dark background. He left him in Diamond City with Piper to look after his affairs, so this was very unusual as the robot never intruded on him.

"Something's wrong?"

"The doctor in Diamond City looked after her until medical team from the Institute arrived." Codsworth paused, hesitant in speech that was almost out of place for a robot.

Nate stood up and holstered the revolver.

"What happened? Is she ok?"

This time he fucked up. She probably went off to look for him and got hurt, or started traipsing around raiders, after he egged her on with his on reckless exploring. His mind was racing with ideas.

"It is a boy, sir. Everyone is waiting on you."

He sat down as quickly as he got up from the chair.

There was a way out of the nightmare after all.


End file.
